


This Is What Makes Us Humans

by orphan_account



Category: Dying Light (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, Happy Ending, M/M, Rare Pairings, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:41:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21783880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Of humanity and unspoken things.
Relationships: Harris Brecken/Kyle Crane
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	This Is What Makes Us Humans

**Author's Note:**

> Hi so English is not my first language so I'm sorry if there are some stupid mistakes, I tried my best. I just really wanted to write something about this game.

Crane often wondered how many people he had killed since his arrival in Harran. He really tried not to, though. Those he had killed weren't people anymore, he tried to convince himself of that. Everyone tried to convince themselves of the same thing, it made the situation somewhat bearable. It made the blood splashed in their faces seem different, it gave the impression that it could be washed more easily. It belonged to an animal, not a human being. But everyone, deep down, knew that it was a fragile lie to keep their small community from collapsing entirely. You had to keep yourself busy in Harran, if you didn’t want to think about it. It was easy, most of the time.

Those creatures walked miles and miles and mindlessly pursued any type of sound that could have been made by a prey, ignoring the extreme degradation of their bodies and everything else. It was easy to pretend that they were less than animals, really. Their humanity was completely gone, in the vast majority of cases, at least. That particular day, Crane had finally encountered that minority other runners had warned him about. Whispered about, with eyes locked in the ground.

"Stop, please!" A woman had screamed, while Crane had been busy slashing throats and stamping on heads in the middle of the street. He did it in auto mode, by then. The guilt came later, not when he was fighting for his life. He turned towards the voice while trying to keep an eye on the rest of the infected. The woman seemed to be very near, her voice was loud and clear. She sounded distressed and Crane wondered how he didn’t see the other survivor if they were standing so close.

"Stop!" The woman pleaded. Crane looked at every direction possible, but there wasn't any woman. There was a creature that sounded like one. Extremely translucent skin, blood-shot eyes, black teeth, stomach sliced open. It ran towards him, emitting a short scream that sounded so feminine, so helpless. It didn't match the animalistic fury in its expression. Crane later realized that was one of the things that had creeped him out the most for a while: There was a woman, somewhere, in there. He acted on instinct, and hit it in the throat with his machete when it jumped towards him. The infected stumped backwards, its head barely in place. It fell to the ground and Crane had to keep moving, had to run to safety. He didn't have time and other infected were coming to get him, anyway. 

When he went back to the tower and had the closest thing to a shower available, it hit him. He killed a woman trapped in the body of a creature that ate dead animals and helpless people. A creature whose body was falling apart, that reacted purely by instinct. But her voice had been so clear, had sounded so desperate. Crane really wished he could have had the time to really look at the infected. To capture it, to try to communicate. But it had thrown itself towards him, fingers gripping his shirt and teeth bared. He hadn’t had a choice.

Crane stared at the slums from his place in the tower’s roof. It was so dark from up there. Harran was the darkest place at night. Even the moonlight seemed afraid to touch the ground, scared of being eaten by volatiles. Crane could hear their shrieks and growls, even from up there. 

"What did you see today?" Brecken's voice was warm and soft while the man took a sit next to Crane. He had heard him approaching, even though Brecken could be the most silent person ever when he wanted to be. Everyone in the tower could be very silent, but always tried to announce their arrivals. Nobody really liked surprises anymore.

He suppressed a brief smile, how Brecken always went straight to the point always amused him. There was no space for drama and suspense those days, not really, but the leader had a way to do it that always felt refreshing. He also thought about how Brecken seemed to know everything, sense everybody’s feelings. To pay so much attention must had been exhausting. 

“One of the minority that everyone warned me about, the ones that can speak normally.” Crane stared at the silhouette of an infected that was walking in an alley. A few months ago, he wouldn’t have told the other man the reason why he was so affected. He would have shove if off, like he did that one time when a kid caught him crying during one of his first days in the tower.

Brecken sighed and didn’t say anything for a while. Crane deeply appreciated the gesture. He turned a little bit to watch the other man, his handsome features offering comfort to his eyes, having seen gore and death all day. Brecken turned towards him, too. They stared at each other for a while and Crane’s chest tightened. Their faces were serious, not even the curiosity that was present in their eyes the first times they were together appeared. Now, it was just comfortable. To be in each other’s space, to be able to just exist for a while and forget about rotting corpses. 

At first, Crane thought that in Brecken he had found someone to release tension with. He had never been particularly interested in men before, but shortly after meeting the other man he knew that he wanted him. There was this tension in the air for a while. Crane knew that he just wanted to fuck and Brecken must have wanted that too, basing that belief in the look in his eyes whenever they were alone. But none of them said or did anything about it, never. It was an unspoken thing, they both knew that they could have it but didn't want to just yet. It was fun, it was sensual, and they wanted to explore it before taking the next step. It was a way of keeping control. They lose it when they killed, and run, and cried. But this thing they had together? It was keeping them sane in the midst of the chaos.

“Some day, when we have more supplies and all of us are trained better, we'll look into it.” Brecken whispered, returning his gaze to the numerous roofs below them. Crane needed a second to understand what he was talking about. “We'll try to understand, but for now, our lives are the priority.”

“Of course.” Replied Crane, looking at the moon. “But it doesn’t make me feel less of a murderer.” Brecken remained silent for a second, tapping on his knee with his index finger and chewing his lower lip. He was able to do things like that and still look calm and collected.

“We are all murderers, Kyle.” He replied. Crane looked at him again, mildly startled by the use of his first name. He noticed how tired he looked and how he had his thinking face while following a group of infected with his gaze. He never really took even the shortest break. Always planning, always trying to come up with something to keep everyone safe for a little longer.

“I wish we'd have met in another time and place.” Crane whispered and closed his eyes a little more than necessary when he blinked. He had broken the unspoken rule by addressing the thing, which had grown and grown to be much more than sexual tension. If Brecken was surprised by his comment, he didn’t show it. 

“It wouldn’t have been the same.” He answered quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “The old me would have suggested fucking and that would have been it. I wouldn’t have tried to get to know you like I do now. I used to run away from everything I considered would make me feel tied down.”

And just like that, the unspoken thing had been spoken. Lingering touches and meaningful glances were something, but hearing Brecken openly admit he would be interested in sleeping with him was something else entirely. Crane felt his chest twist and even more so when Brecken turned to look at him again. With a certain amount of effort, he did it too.

“But I do know you, here and now. And that’s probably the only thing that makes being stranded in this shithole somewhat bearable.” Brecken says it with such an honesty that Crane wants to cry. He’s exhausted, his limbs hurt and he depends on a medicine to not transform in one of those creatures he kills everyday, and he discovers that Brecken being there is probably the main reason he hadn’t lost his shit a long time ago.

Crane could be very charming when he wanted to. He could also be witty and funny, if he tried. But at that moment he didn’t really know what to say. He extended one hand and let it rest at one side of Brecken’s neck, caressing his jaw. He wasn’t pulling him towards himself, just caressing. Brecken closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, Crane couldn’t stop staring. When the other man started to close the space between them, he met him in the middle.

When their lips met, the tension in Crane’s shoulders faded. Kissing Brecken was the easiest thing he had done in months. It felt familiar and comforting, like hugging an old friend and holding the hand of a spouse. When they broke the kiss, Crane thought feverishly that he could really get used to that. 

“Me too.” Brecken said softly while pressing their foreheads together. Crane didn’t know if he had said his last thought aloud or if Brecken just knew him that well.


End file.
